2018-- Challenge and Change

 People probably think that completing my Ph.D. was my greatest accomplishment in 2018- but it was not. When I started my Ph.D. journey in October of 2012, I had a one-year-old, a teenager, and I was engaged to be married. I had authored four books (my memoir, a novella, and two poetry collections). I was in amazing shape and after 7 years of working in one building, teaching 5 subjects, I was one year into a new position as an English Teacher in another building. I just knew I would be done in 4 to 5 years because I did everything quickly. I had finished my master’s degree in a little over a year.  I would work on my Ph.D. and plan a wedding at the same time. Besides, I had already chosen my bridesmaids and maids of honor. My dress was picked out, and by the time I got my degree, I would have a different last name.

 I survived my dissertation and almost six years in a full-time Ph.D. program, but so many other things in my life did not.

Less than a year into my program, I dismissed three members of my huge wedding party, including one maid of honor.  Some childhood friends were no longer a part of my life just like that.  A misunderstanding turned out to be the universe's way of eliminating people who were not meant to accompany me on the journey to the next level. Turns out, neither was my fiancée, because the wedding would never happen...my relationship did not survive my Ph.D. either.

Know what else did not survive my Ph.D.? My ovaries and my breasts. But because I got rid of them, I will!  Consequently, my fit figure did not survive. Between four surgeries and menopause, my body has been through it, and I have had to learn to love it all over again.

My love of performing poetry also did not survive. Although I have published two more poetry collections, another novella, two journals, and a children's book. I birthed a new dream-----motivational speaking. I will always be a poet, it was my first love, but two years into my journey, I realized that not only did I need to share my story in writing, but also through speaking. I am meant to share my healing so that others may heal.

Homeownership also did not survive my Ph.D. During all the changes that were taking place in my life, I realized that much of what I had done for the last 20 years had been because I was trying to prove others wrong. I was fighting stereotypes. That was my motivation when I went to college, the first and second time. It was the reason I prolonged both of my engagements when I knew it would not work. It was the major reason I bought a house before I was 30 years old. I did not want to be another poor black single mother living in low-income housing. I would show them (whoever they were). Everything I said I would do, I did, and I had become known for that.

The reality was, I hated home ownership. I hated the responsibility of lawn care, snow removal in New England, buying a hot water heater, paying $275-$300 every two weeks to heat an old home. But that was the American way, and homeownership is applauded and viewed as a sign of higher status. 
Well, in a month before I defended my dissertation, I made the decision to put my house on the market and start fresh by renting and not worrying about a damn thing.  My oldest son was an adult, things were not working with my tenant, and it was just me and my 7-year-old in a big spacy house. I was ready for a change, for freedom from something I never really wanted. Some people supported this, others thought I was making a huge mistake. The more I heard people’s opinions, the more I realized that it was time for me to unlearn the ideologies that had been forced upon me by society. 
Marriage would not make me happy if he was not meant for me. And not being married didn't make me any less of a woman. What was the point in owning a home if I felt I had no real peace when I got home?  I even started questioning why I even wanted my degree anymore (although I was in too deep to quit at that point).

So, what am I am most proud of at the end of 2018? Defining success and joy on my own terms and setting clear boundaries with people who try to force me to think or do otherwise. It is not easy, because people will guilt you, manipulate you, or try to make you feel less than for doing what is best for you. But in the end, if you cannot ignore the outside noise from others, you will never hear your inner voice, which is ultimately a higher power guiding you exactly where you need to be.  Although it had many challenges, I end 2018 full of gratitude, joy, and serenity. I wish you a Joyous New Year! Do you boo!

Never Dormant

Everybody’s talking about it. Jay-Z new album 4:44, his

proclamation that he is grown and woke as hell. Although

I’ve only heard a few tracks (I don’t have Tidal or Sprint), the

social media posts have prompted me to delve deeper into the

lyrics and all I can say is I dig it!  Apparently, I’m not the only

one because he's trending like crazy and quotes from his songs

are all the rage on every timeline I have. While some are

cheering the evolution of Jay-Z, others are saying that he’s

stating the obvious when he speaks of obtaining wealth over

becoming hood rich, when he talks about the importance of

being a responsible father and husband. As an artist myself, I

totally understand how what you write about is a reflection of

where you are on your journey. I published my first book A

Piece of My Mind…Poetic Confessions of a Self-Proclaimed

Diva in 2007…10 years ago. Most of my poetry was a

declaration of my self-esteem and love (mostly love gone

wrong), with a few poems about my Blackness and being a

teacher.  I was careful of who my audience was since I had

written to poems in my late teen years, it was geared towards

teens and young adults.

This is what the updated cover looks like 

Two years later, in my second collection, there were fewer

love poems, and they weren’t about breaking up. Instead, the

poems were about falling in love. There were more pieces

about the Black experience, some celebrating greatness, but

many more were about my growing frustration with

Black stereotypes and white people’s failure to understand

our struggle in America.

Yes...I use my image on every cover

There was also a chapter of erotic poetry because I was deep

into discovering my sexuality and I decided I wasn’t going to

be shy about it.

Plus, people who saw me perform erotic poems

were looking to take home what they saw on stage in the form

of a book. I used the title Outspoken…Poetry for the Bold

because I aimed to be intentionally risky.

 It was five years later that I released my third poetry

collection…after the murder of Trayvon Martin, after 10 years

 in teaching in alternative schools, and 8 years of running a

mentoring program. My eyes were wide open! In Truth

Tastes Better with a Side of Rhyme there would be no love

poems unless they were about encouraging people to love

themselves, to celebrate blackness and teach people about

our struggle. It was about death…finding acceptance and

closure and in some cases still searching for it. In Truth I was

a mother, mentor, advocate, and motivator. I wanted my

message to be heard, so I was careful about my use of

profanity.  I felt like I had the help of my ancestors in writing

that book.

My most recent poetry book Self-Titled was released in 2016. 

 I am in no way comparing myself- to Jay-Z (I’m not a

billionaire, I’ve never cheated or sold drugs, and my cadence

has nothing on his flow). However, I will say that Self-Titled,

much like 4:44 is my declaration that I too am grown and

woke as hell.

  It is all Black Woman, the pain, and pleasures, the serious

and the seriously sexy.  I address how the black man and

white America treats us, and how black women should treat

each other. And I do so unapologetically because I’m unafraid

of criticisms.  I pay homage to my past experiences.  I am

vulnerable as ever in how I reframed heartbreak, pain and

loss into lessons and in the words of India Aire…there is a

blessing in every lesson.

Kudos to Jigga Man, Jay-Z, Sean Carter,  for evolving from Where I'm from" to "Big Pimpin" to leaving a "Legacy" and still shouting out the streets.  The message is just as important as the delivery, and while he or I may not speak to all the masses, we are heard by those who need to hear it, and  it is spit to them in their language.

Going through it to Get to it

I am tremendously elated to be on the other end of a very

difficult transitional season in my life.

In the last two years I have:

• had my ovaries removed =(adjusting to menopause) 

• had a double mastectomy with full reconstruction

      =(multiple surgeries and body image issues to follow)

• ended an 8 year relationship to the man I lived with and thought I would marry =(adjusting to single life physically, emotionally & financially)

• started a 9 month leadership program (more work, meetings and deadlines)

•   finished my doctoral course work (which meant starting a dissertation).

      That’s a lot right? Well, wait…there’s more.

 

The first half of 2017 was all about:

•  waiting for the arrival of my first grandchild (he came April 3rd),

•  finishing the leadership program (I graduate June 14^th.) 

• completing my dissertation (by the end of summer… FINALLY),

•  and most importantly, after a year and a half of living in pain and discomfort. I have my last surgery date scheduled for July 7.

I was in limbo for so long, it feels amazing to finally have

some closure. Although there will still be some challenges,

physically, emotionally and mentally… I see the light at the

end of the tunnel. It’s bright as hell and I am relieved,

delighted and excited. 

Life Cycles

When I look at this picture, I am flooded with thoughts and emotion. It was 20 years ago, on my 19^th birthday, and I was pregnant. I was in love and had illusions of happily ever after; ready to skip through the parties, meeting new people, and all the experiences college life had to offer and leap right into domestic tranquility. While most of my friends were away, fully emerged into their college lives, I was fully emerged in my son’s father and his family, distancing myself from everything and everyone whom I loved. I had plans to finish college, but only to prove that those naysayers who were so disappointed in my pregnancy were wrong.  But I was lost. I even took a hiatus from writing poetry because all that mattered to me was having enough money to get a place for us- him, our baby, and myself. Myself. Myself became last and remained that way for a long time. That’s why I totally get it when I work with young women who follow my path... I had become so absorbed in the idea that at 19 I was with the love of my life and nothing else mattered. Fortunately for me, I grew the hell up and eventually found myself. Unfortunately many like me remain lost, jumping from relationship to relationship, never finding out who they really are. All I can do is drop little gems here and there, and hope it helps them find their way, much like Hansel and Gretel.

Which leads me to my second thought. More than the idea of evolution is how history repeats itself, and things come full circle. 20 years later, my son 19, with a baby on the way, is trying  ( or maybe not trying ) to find himself. How wild is that? And me, being a mother and refusing to be a hypocrite, must let him walk his own path of self-discovery, understanding that every screw up, every heartbreak is a lesson that will make him stronger and wiser. Talk about Life Cycles.

CHECK UP FROM THE NECK UP

How are you? No really, how are you? So often we are asked or ask that question, already anticipating an automatic response of “fine” or “good” because it’s the polite thing to say. After all we can’t just go and spill our guts to everyone. I mean what if I answered, “ Awful. Menopause is killing me. I don’t sleep, I wake up in sweats, I’m showering twice a day, and I can’t wear any of my winter sweaters because I’ll die if I have a hot flash while wearing one!” AWKWARD!! Right?  So, that’s why I chose to share it with a therapist instead. That’s right, a therapist. I went recently for a “CHECK UP FROM THE NECK UP” because just as it's important get a pap smear and a cholesterol check, it’s equally important to get a mental and emotional check. Turns out I’m fine (I’m at a time in my life where I’m in transition in almost every area of my life, and I’m embracing it). 

Unfortunately, as women, as women of color we tend to put this on the bottom of our to-do list, if we put it on there at all. Instead we push our feelings to the side, or drown them in façade, food, drink, work, or worse social media; to the detriment of ourselves. We make sure that even if we shop at the thrift store or color our hair on our own that we look good no matter what, but we don’t do that for our inside. I used to be so guilty of it myself for years, but now I’m all about self-care because I know it makes me a better mother, employee, friend and a warrior. Having friends and family to support you is a wonderful thing, and I’m blessed to have both. However, confiding in them sometimes means you will be judged (verbally or mentally). And once you divulge drama about your significant other, then you can count on them to hold a grudge even if you don’t. A licensed therapist, however doesn’t hold grudges, instead they let you talk and ask you the type of leading questions that compel you to figure out how to handle your situations.  Even if you don’t go regularly (because honestly there may not be need to), go for that checkup. There may be a problem you aren’t aware of lurking in your conscious. And then again, everything might be fine. But you won’t know unless you go!  

An open letter to young women in unhealthy relationships.

Dear Young Woman  Lost,


 When  we older women try to tell you to walk away, to leave him alone, we know you won’t listen because we didn’t listen when they tried to tell us. More often than not when we are in love, we think we’re different, that we will prove the naysayers wrong. Consequently, we end up regretful and hurt. For some, it becomes a valuable lesson in personal growth. For others, it becomes the start of a vicious cycle of unhealthy, abusive relationships. Some become better women and others become broken. It is my hope that all of you reading this will be the ones who become better. And while you will have to navigate your own journey, let me leave you with some gems. 

1. If you feel alone, guilty, hurt, afraid, smothered, or any negative emotion a majority of the time, odds are you are in an emotionally ( and hopefully not physically) abusive relationship. It will not get better no matter what you do or don’t do.  Love certainly has its up and downs, but it shouldn’t have more downs than up and it shouldn’t frantically go up and down on a daily basis. So many people think that because he doesn’t hit you, it’s not abusive. Threats, constant cheating, intimidation, name calling, and isolation from people who love you are all forms of abuse. Hurt people hurt people… Don’t let him break your spirit!
2. If is not your responsibility to fix him or to make him happy. If he isn’t already a happy person, then once again, nothing you do will matter long term.  Don’t be guilted into staying because he had a difficult life, or because he has no family, or because of “all” he’s done for you. He’ll be alright, and if he isn’t, at least you will be. This also means you don’t allow him to be solely responsible for your happiness. That’s your job. Work on you instead of trying to fix him.
3.   Just because you have children together does not mean you have to stay together.  I know... you want it to work; you don’t want another baby daddy.  Here’s the reality. Happy mommy equals happy kid. They feel your energy, they know when you are hurting and they absorb it. Even worse, they learn what they see… that men are supposed to hurt women. You are your child’s first teacher, set an example. 

4.  Don’t compromise who you are under any circumstances. That means you don’t:  stash his drugs, do sexual favors that make you uncomfortable, quit doing what you love, not take care of your emotional and physical health. Once you lose yourself, it’s hard to get back. Don’t let your relationship or its status define you. 
5. Most importantly, YOU WILL GET THROUGH AND OVER THIS. Surround yourself with people who are positive models for healthy relationships and those who know how to do single like bosses. They are proof that it can be done.


          You are beautiful, you are enough.  And know that I am here for you when you are ready and if you have questions  Stay up ladies. Love you.


Here is an additional source:  http://www.loveisrespect.org/is-this-abuse/types-of-abuse/

Hold on

I can officially say that the second week of January 2017 was the most emotionally draining I’ve had in a long time. But if you know me, after I have time to refill my  cup,  I reflect and figure how what's next…. how do I make it better? What can I do differently? How can I help?

Tragedy and Trauma (with capital T's)  were the words of week as I found myself needing to be there for others while internally dealing with my own emotional response. There were very few people who actually checked in to see how I was doing. Then there were people I called and they focused on how they were feelings. I ended most of my days on my couch in a catatonic state, followed b restless sleeping and wearing my mask at work. Now that the week has ended, and I've had time to think, I've learned at least two major lessons this week. The first is I've learned is ...  ask for what you need. There are some of us ( like Me) who are perceived to be these strong people who may bend but never break. And while I do consider myself to be resilient and adept at self-care, this week I really needed a shoulder to cry to on because I spent my days hugging & comforting crying teens and young women during the day, and texting, instant messaging and calling them by night. All of this after news of a successful and then thankfully an unsuccessful suicide attempt, sexual assault on video, hospitalizations and mental breakdowns. All in a matter of days. 
In the mist of it, the innate nurturer in me just wanted to make sure everyone was okay, so I sprang into comforter mode.  But when it was all done, there were about three people who called to check on me. Then I realized it’s not their fault, they assumed that I got this, because most times I do. What I should have done was said was, “Listen I’m emotionally drained and heartbroken, can someone come get my 5 year old so I can have moment to cry."  "Can someone cook me hot food because I just want to lay here."  "Let's a have chocolate or wine and talk it out."  But I didn’t, so I cannot be mad that I didn’t get what I didn’t ask for. My commitment is to make sure from now on that I ask for what I need and I teach my students and mentees to do the same because no one should suffer in silence and so many people do.  As I was there this week  for one of the strongest people, this truth was reiterated.

 This leads me to my second lesson. Early last week I learned that I’m not done with major surgery.Nope. Because of my hernia, I in fact will have to endure another 6 hour surgery, a couple of days in the hospital and 6 weeks of recovery. I was devastated when the surgeon explained why a simple laparoscopic surgery would not be enough. After a small temper tantrum in the car on the way home, I realized. I will get through this as I did all of the others, that that is just the way life works, if you don’t give up. You will get through it and come out on the other side, most times stronger, better, and more beautiful. This is also what I remind myself… and what I will teach my students and mentees as well.  It’s definitely easier said than done, especially when your world is crumbling and you don’t have emotional support or coping skills, like many of the young people in my live. I just hope that by persevering and sharing my story they can see that it is possible. Depression, illness, death, loneliness, etc. It is possible to come out on the other side. This too shall pass.  As I type this I can hear that Wilson Sister’s song in the back of my mind... "Hold on for one day, things will go your way." It’s so true, and until they can hold on to themselves, I’m going to be there to help them hold on. 

The Not So Hidden Messages in Hidden Figures

After clapping and crying, being angry,excited and enamoured in a span of 2 hours, I ultimately left the movie theatre feeling inspired and uplifted. The empowering  messages I received from each amazing portrayal of NASA’s African-American human computers in Hidden Figures  were loud, clear and necessary as hell:

1.       Katherine Johnson (played by Taraji P.Henson),  the gifted mathematician, when told no,  refused to accept it as an answer. She was the ultimate example of  "leaning in." When you are capable and talented, don’t back down.  And when they try to shut you up, let your brilliance speak for itself; in other words,  I can show you better than I can tell you. By doing so she went from being ignored to becoming indispensable.

2.       Dorothy Vaughn (played by Octavia Spencer)  took self-determination to another level. Not only did she take the initiative to teach herself about the the first computers, she mastered them, and then taught her  fellow  Black women how to use them as well. In doing so, she too made herself indispensable. More importantly, she pulled her sistas up with her.  Now that is bad assery.

3.       Mary Jackson (played fabulously by Janelle Monae )was intelligent and fiery. Being a woman with high aspirations is tough in 2017, I could only imagine how difficult it was in 1961! With the gender roles issues, work/life balance and every kind of ism  black women are up against today,  it's nothing compared what she experienced and under far more extreme conditions. But it served as a reminder to us all that you cannot let other’s  fears, misconceptions and judgments veer you off track, whether they be institutions or people.  In her story, I saw that somebody has to be the first, why not  me? Why not you?

This movie was just the nudge  I needed to push me me off the cliff of 2016 and into flight of 2017.I’m about to soar... and I'm taking my sistas with me! Thank you ladies, messages received.

 "If they don't give you a seat at the table, bring a folding chair." 

                              - Shirley Chisholm

4 Lessons from 2016

If I had to sum up this year for me in one word, it would be TRANSITION. 2016 was full of changes for me wrapped in lessons, successes and blessings. To start off with, I ended and 8 year relationship (not  BARACK OBAMA  though I am devastated) with someone who I was engaged to, lived with and had a child with.  This was difficult because my decision wasn’t based on something catastrophic, dramatic or scandalous. I didn’t catch him cheating, he didn’t hit me. I just realized that some of our beliefs were so inherently different it affected how we dealt with each other, parenting, goals and overall views on life.  At first I thought, what would everyone think…his family, my family, and the naysayers? But then I had to listen to my inner voice which loudly and repeatedly told me that  he was brought into my life for a reason and a season, but not meant to be my mate for a life time. Imagine trying to articulate that? This was at the beginning of the year, and still we are transitioning from cohabitating fiancés to co-parenting friends.

   The transition to living on my own after 6 years has actually been amazing. It’s given me the opportunity to really self-reflect and think , to take care of myself; to plan.  

 A few months ago, my oldest son told me I was going to be a grandmother in April 2017. This was like the official stamp on the end of an era. No ovaries, in menopause, I’m a grandmother before 40. This transition will be all about letting go and trusting that no matter what my baby will be more than okay, he’ll be great.  

 I also resigned from a leadership team at my day job and began a leadership program outside of my realm. Trying something new was easy; giving up something old was a difficult decision, but so worth it in the end. I was tired of fighting an unnecessary battle, one in which I was asked to go against the warrior and change agent I am.   

But instead of telling you ALLLLLL my business,  I’d like to summarize a few take aways from my last 361 days and hopefully they will speak to your spirit:

    1. Do not allow others to stifle who you are at the core. This includes friends, family, lovers, and employers. If you are asked to do something that is without a doubt contradictory to who you are a person, something that makes you feel guilty, strained, or at war with yourself- don’t do it. Life is too short to live with that type of inner turmoil. Be unabashedly, uniquely you.

    2.  F%CK WHAT OTHER PEOPLE THINK. PERIOD.  Don’t let other people’s fearful, judgmental ideologies dictate what you do.  Tell them to take their SHOULDS and shove ‘em.

    3.  Let go of the people and the things that don’t bring you joy. You can’t choose your family, but you can choose to love them from a distance. When you let go of the things that don’t make you happy, guess what happens…you get happy!

     4. STRETCH. Your thinking, your activities, your mind. Even if it’s a little bit at a time. Change is inevitable but  it is so much more enjoyable when you control it.

These steps are why, even though the devastation of losing Prince ( and OBAMA)  I was able to have an adventurous, happy and amazing transitional year.  What’s next for 2017? Stay tuned! 

Happy Foob Year!

5 days later, here I am wearing the most hideous surgical garment ever. I mean the last ones were ugly, but they were all white and  made no attempt to be cute. However uncomfortable and unattractive this contraption, it does what it’s supposed to, which is support my newly lifted foobs and sewn on fipples.

 I have to say this surgery was a breeze compared to the last two. Aside from the fact that we had our first snow/sleet/ice storm the night before, which caused my surgeon to arrive 15 minutes late, everything went as planned. At 7:45am the anesthesiologist injected my IV with the feel good stuff. At 11:10 I was awakened by a nurse placing pillows under each side of my arms. She told me I could keep sleeping, which I did for another hour. Then I was ready to get up and go. My fiancée came for me, and other than feeling light headed and dizzy, I felt relieved; no more surgeries, I did it. I was home in time to watch Judge Mathis, which I eventually fell asleep on.  With the help of some narcotics, I slept on and off the rest of the day.  The next day, I was still groggy and my only discomfort were the stitches were underneath the foobs. It felt tight, and itchy, but nothing unbearable.  Because I wanted to celebrate with champagne on New Year’s Eve, I was hell bent on not taking any pain meds at all. So I sucked it up. My reward was spending my holiday surrounded by family, and wearing scarves and sweaters to cover up the bulky surgical tube top. I tried to go the whole week with only sponge baths, but once 2016 came around, I gave in, being sure not to wet my bandages. In two more days I will get to see an updated version of my foobs and fipples. 

At this point I’m not even excited about it because I’ve just become more and more accepting of my body no matter what it looks like. Besides, it’s amazing, I mean look at all it’s been through and it continues to heal and allow me to do whatever I set out to!

FREASTS: The last night Part I

Here I am at the 6 week mark for my surgery, and the whole experience has been surreal. Rewind to the last week of August, which was pure chaos for me. It was the first week of professional development for educators and I had to be a presenter. While my summer was great I was feeling extra fat because I needed to put extra meat on my stomach for the surgery and well, I did. Let’s be clear, you cannot spot gain  weight just like you cannot spot lose, so I was feeling plump in all areas. My breasts were the largest they'd
been in a long time and my weight was close to its highest. Therefore I only had like 2 bras I could fit and a few maxi dresses. I was highly emotional all of the time. I was like a pregnant mother nesting, preparing my house for the week would be in the hospital, preparing my toddler for  mommy being "at the doctor’s" for days and him not being able to climb on mommy or mommy not being able to pick him up when I came back. I was decorating a classroom and getting lesson plans ready for my extended absence  (8 to 12 weeks). This meant staying after school for 2 to 3 hours daily while all of the other teachers rushed off to enjoy their last days of summer. I was preparing for a surgery that would not only change my body, but would change my life! The week was flying by as I felt like there wasn't enough time for to complete my to-do list. My surgery was scheduled for August 31, the first day of school for students. I would not be there,  instead I'd be on an operating table being sliced and diced.

  It would be a 10 to 12 hour surgery, I was nervous about not coming out of it alive, I was anxious about how I would react to my “Toya the Remix”. What if I hated my freasts (fake breasts)? What if I looked at this new pair without nipples and with big scars and I panicked?  What if they were lopsided, or my abdominal scar was atrocious? I know supposedly the internet is not your friend when it comes to medicine but I did extensive research, sometimes at 2 and 3am, looking at other people’s scars, finding recovery tips, and while it helped me prepare my home, it definitely put my anxiety at an all-time high. I couldn’t sleep at night. I almost had panic attack thinking about going under and the type of pain I’d have to endure. 

 The only thing that took my attention away was the deadline for my comprehensive exam for my doctoral degree.  I couldn't continue with my dissertation until I passed. It was due September 8, no exceptions, no excuses, even medical (Please believe me, I tried). It was more than 60 pages long. And I would have to complete it a week early if I wanted to succeed.

 Fast forward to the night of Sunday, August 30^th ...the longest night ever. My hospital bag was packed, the house was spotless, everyone was asleep and I had done more research on the procedure than I needed. I had two Reiki sessions and had been put on many prayer lists, so in terms of the actual procedure, I was felt relaxed and prepared. There was only one thing weighing heavily on my mind.I knew I had to finish the exam before I went under because I knew there was no way I’d be able to write coherently once I came out of surgery. As I made edits, my eyes were strained, I wasn't sure if I was thinking clearly. I was hungry as hell, but doing the mandatory fasting, not even water.I had a toddler meltdown at about 1:00am thinking, I should just give up, I should just wait until next semester and retake it, even if it meant more loan money. I wanted my peace of mind; I needed my peace of mind. And then I heard this little voice, scratch that, a big voice tells …  BULL SH*T! You are Brenda’s Child, there’s no giving up! You busted your ass on this for a month and now you wanna quit!?

 The voice sounded a lot like Tom Hanks in a League of Their Own. But instead of yelling “There’s no crying in baseball” he was saying “There’s no giving up. People are counting on you. You aren’t a hypocrite are you? Follow Through.”  

So I did. I finished my paper at 3:34 am. I still didn't hand it in. I closed my laptop, went into the bathroom and looked at my for the last time. I felt my erect nipples for the last time, realizing I'd never know what that would be like again.

 I took a selfie of my extra-large, gravity-stricken breasts and my stomach, that since my first son was born 18 years ago, had looked like two large lips frowning.  I looked at my red sleepy eyes and then I shrugged my shoulders before I took what would be my last shower for 3weeks. Screw it, I’d sleep under anesthesia. I was going to let everything go and clear my mind for the surgery I had to report to at 5:45am.  I was signing off.